


ice ice baby

by hoosierbitch



Category: White Collar
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, CBT, Dom/sub, Ice Play, Jealousy, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Painplay, Porn, Sex Toys, Waxplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-06
Updated: 2010-03-06
Packaged: 2017-10-09 05:21:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/83479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoosierbitch/pseuds/hoosierbitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter gets jealous when Neal tells him about his various sexual exploits, and decides to give him a night that'll make everything else pale in comparison.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ice ice baby

**Author's Note:**

> (For interested parties, directions for making an ice dildo of your very own can be found [here](http://www.ehow.com/how_2123254_make-ice-dildo.html).)

"How many fingers do I have inside you, Neal?"

"Two - three." Peter chuckled and spread all of his fingers out. "Oh, fuck, _four_, Peter, four - "

"Two wrong answers before you got it right, Neal." He tsked and looked at the man he had spread out before him. He'd tied Neal to the bedposts again - on his belly, this time, but he'd decided to leave the gag out. He was going to try something new, and he needed to make sure Neal had every chance to tell him if something felt wrong. But first - he brought his left hand down twice on Neal's ass. Neal's hole contracted around his fingers, impossibly tight. "Next time, pay more attention."

"Yes, Peter." And sure Peter could hear the smirk in voice but it felt so _good_ to hear those kinds of words - obedient, submissive - from Neal's smart mouth. Neal's cock was trapped under his body but Peter knew he was already painfully hard. Had to be, after Peter'd spent the better part of half an hour fingering him, rimming him, opening him up. The rope he'd tied around Neal's cock and balls (pulling them away from his body, tight and swollen and plump) probably helped, too.

"I think I need to take a break. Maybe get something to drink. Don't come while I'm gone," he warned loudly, ignoring Neal's complaints before heading down to the kitchen. There was no way Neal could get out of the cuffs they were using. Peter'd ordered them online from a special manufacturer and the locks were solid, the angle impossible. He could trust that Neal would be just the way he wanted when he came back.

He took his time in the kitchen. He filled a glass with ice, then warm water. He drank it slowly. It would melt the edges of the cubes a bit, round them off. He got out the ice trays and emptied them into a bowl. He was careful to refill the trays and put everything away before going back upstairs - El hated coming home from her business trips to find the kitchen a mess.

Neal had told them so many stories about his sex life - with Kate, with groups of Russian models, with _Moz_, for Heaven's sake, and he just - he wanted Neal to want to tell stories about _him_. About how _he_ could made him come undone and still want more and lose his mind with pleasure.

The week before Neal had told them about when Kate had used ice cubes on him - stuffed his ass full of them and fucked him with a strap-on while they melted. This, he was hoping, would be even better. He went back to the freezer and got out the ice dildo. It was surprisingly heavy. And wide - he couldn't even wrap his hand all the way around it. He grinned. Neal was going to love it - or hate it, didn't really matter. He'd still take all it.

Neal was absentmindedly rutting into the bedspread when Peter returned, teasing himself with slow rolls of his hips against the sheets. "Jesus. Just look at you, waiting so patiently. Why can't you be like this at the office?" Peter asked before setting his supplies on the foot of the bed and out of Neal's line of sight. God, but he wanted to just screw his plans and fuck into Neal's hole. It had almost closed again, already, after taking nearly his entire hand. "So ready," he murmured, slowly twisting two fingers inside of him. "So hot." But not for long.

"Would you just fuck me already, Peter? I'm getting sleepy." Peter glared and Neal laughed. Yeah. He needed to show Neal who was in charge tonight, show him what Peter could do for him.

"All in good time, Caffrey. I'm going to blindfold you before I turn you over, okay?" Neal smiled and nodded, sighing when the black silk covered his eyes. "I'm - I want to play pretty hard tonight, Neal, so you let me know if you need anything, okay?"

"You got it, Agent Burke."

Peter growled and smacked him on the ass as he rolled him over onto his back. "Save the role-playing for another night. Right now I just want you." He refastened the cuffs on his wrists and ankles. "Just you." Neal's cock was sticking straight up from his stomach, the white rope viciously tight, keeping him hard but not allowing him to come. It was red - must be hot, he thought. Painful. He could help with that. He picked up the first ice cube and ran it over the head of Neal's cock.

Neal gasped, his hips jerked, the water running down his cock swirled with precum. "Oh - ice. I like it. Very kinky, Peter - " Peter shoved two cubes in his mouth to shut him up. He chuckled around them, an awkward muffled sound, but started moaning (a trickle of water dripping past his lips) when Peter began rubbing an ice cube on his balls. He stayed there for a while - melting ice on the soft skin, taking the cubes into his mouth and then licking off the water that dripped down to his hole. When the ropes around Neal's erection were completely soaked he went up to the nipples. He loved seeing the goosebumps on Neal's flesh, the way his nipples hardened to little buds. He bit them, froze them, licked them. But apparently even that wasn't enough.

"You are planning on putting those inside of me at some point, right? You don't need to go so slowly. I _have_ done this before."

"I know," Peter said. "You mentioned that a few times." He grinned. Time for part two of his plan. He lubed the ice dildo up quickly and pressed it against Neal's hole. It hadn't melted at all, insulated in the bowl of ice cubes, and looking at it against Neal's hole - clenched tight against the cold, so tight - it seemed impossible to imagine it would fit inside of him. Thankfully the lube and latex stretched over the ice should help to ease the push. "I'm sure this'll be nothing new, then."

It slid in slowly, and Neal didn't try to fight it. He just lay there, mouth open, gasping for breath, while Peter filled him with ice. It was wider and longer than Peter was, thicker than El's favorite dildo, and Neal took it in silently, hips twitching. Peter stopped about four inches in to suck Neal until he'd started trying to fuck himself on the dildo, helpless little hitches of his hips before he continued. "It'll start melting eventually," he said. "But I'm sure you already know that - given your vast amount of carnal knowledge." He tried to twist it but Neal was too tight to allow any movement. Soon only an inch stuck out, and it wasn't budging any further in. "What's it feel like, Neal?"

"Fuck, Peter! I can't - I don't know - "

He traced his hands through the puddles of melted water on Neal's chest, in his throat, his bellybutton. "Don't worry," he whispered into Neal's ear, biting the lobe gently. "I'll warm you up." Neal tried to twist towards him, to kiss him, but Peter wasn't ready for that yet.

He jacked Neal off slower than he liked it - then kept his hand in a tight circle so that Neal had to do the work, rolling his hips up into Peter's grip, groaning with every shift of the dildo inside him, every twist of Peter's hand around his cock. Neal wasn't letting any sounds escape his mouth. Peter could see the clenched muscles in his jaw, see how tightly he was holding onto the leather straps binding him to the headboard. His rim was white around the dildo. Completely stretched. Peter pressed down on his abdomen and imagined he could feel it, a cold hard pressure inside of him.

He stopped when Neal's cock was wet again with precum and Neal had begun licking his lips. Time to implement part three of his plan...

Neal startled when Peter got off the bed and gathered the tea-light candles he'd lit - to set the mood, he'd told Neal. Neal, blindfolded, tried to follow his movements but Peter was barefoot and careful. He set the row of candles on the bedside table. They were basically just cups filled with melted wax by now. Peter held the first one over Neal's nipple and slowly dripped it onto him. Neal yelled, cursed him, bit his lip and whined when Peter didn't stop.

"I'm sorry I'm keeping you from your beauty sleep," Peter said, slowly drawing an X across the left nipple in red. "This must be just be like another day at the office for you," and he rubbed Neal's right nipple with an ice cube until it melted, holding the candle directly over his left nipple so that the hot wax puddled over it and started dripping down his ribs. "Sex with us must be such a chore, compared with what you're used to," and Neal started to moan.

He dripped a few splotches of wax onto Neal's frozen nipple and had to wait a second for the gasp, wait for Neal's body to process what was happening, for the cold burn to switch to too hot. He rubbed his thumb in the wax and spread it over the nipple, pinching it tightly before grabbing another ice cube.

He paused and let Neal catch his breath, admiring the lines of red spilling across Neal's pale chest. When he seemed to have regained control of himself (just rocking his hips into the air, desperate for friction, desperate for the huge frigid cock in his ass to move). "Neal. Are you listening to me?"

"Yes," and somehow his voice was still even, like he wasn't sweating, moaning, desperate. Con man.

"Is there anywhere on your body that you don't want me to drip any wax?"

"Unh - " and a burst of precum shot out of his cock. "No," and now he sounded almost excited. "No," and Peter kissed him.

"Don't forget your safeword, baby," and he tilted the candle over Neal's cock. He avoided the head of the cock, and just dripped red wax down the shaft of Neal's purple cock. It followed the prominent veins to gather around the rope at the base. He started to stroke Neal's cock using the wax as lube and Neal started screaming. Peter laughed and licked at Neal's precum, pouring the last of the candle on the underside of Neal's dick. Neal was thrashing underneath him, and Peter let him - let him wear himself out screaming and pleading and trying to get away.

Then he moved down to look at Neal's hole. It didn't seem like the dildo had melted at all - even if it had, the water was trapped in the condom. Neal wouldn't be any less full, no matter how he hard squeezed his tight hole around it, no matter how high-pitched his whines became, no matter how much wax Peter dripped down his balls, his perineum, over the base of the dilldo. "You're so cold," he murmured. "Let me warm you up." He crouched between Neal's legs to lick at it, to press his tongue in alongside the ice. It wasn't easy but the sweet sounds spilling out of Neal's mouth made it worth it. He grabbed another candle and started randomly splashing wax on Neal's inner thighs, his groin, his lower stomach, keeping him interested and twitching.

Then he got out another ice cube (they were smaller now, but not by much) and started to run it over the wax on Neal's thighs. The muscles in his legs were so tight, strained to their limit, and Peter shifted back onto his knees after one last splash onto Neal's balls (there was nothing better than knowing he could reduce Neal to this - wanton, desperate, hungry, open). He pulled the dildo out and Neal jerked under him, trying to follow it with sharp hitches of his hips, trying to get it back inside him. It left him gaping open. His muscles were thick with strain. Spread, cold, trembling, burning with it.

"What do you want, baby?"

He took the blindfold off to see if Neal was crying. To see the tears dripping down his face, mirroring the wax and water on the rest of his body. Christ. Neal's eyelashes were wet, his eyes red. It - had he gone too far? "Neal - are you alright?" Neal just sobbed and nodded. "If you want me to keep going, I will. But I need you to ask for it." Neal's face crumpled

He waited, gently stroking Neal's cock, tugging on the rope, for Neal to collect himself. "Fuh - fuck me," he said finally, and Peter obeyed.

"Okay. I've got you." He unlocked the ankle cuffs and yanked Neal's legs up over his shoulders, bending him nearly in half before he let his cock touch Neal's hole. It was unpleasantly cold. Neal started to choke on air, taking in great heaving breaths, like this was the hardest thing Peter'd made him do, like it hurt. He added more lube and slid all the way in on one push. Neal's cock jerked and precum spurted out of him. He probably would've come a few times by now, if Peter hadn't been helping keep him under control. "You're so loose," so cold Peter's cock must feel like it was burning him. "I need you to tighten up, baby."

Neal tried. A little crease of concentration appeared between his eyebrows, his jaw tightened, he bit his sweet pink lips until they almost bled. But no matter how diligently he tried to tighten around Peter, he couldn't. He was numb from the ice, tired and stretched and loose, and he failed. Peter loved it when that happened. Neal so rarely had to admit defeat. So when he looked up at Peter and said "sorry," said "please," Peter almost came just from that.

"Oh. You can't do it, can you baby?" Neal gave one last tired roll of his hips, but it was useless.

"You want me to help you?"

"Yes," Neal pleaded, and Peter thought he'd probably look grateful if he didn't look so tired.

He picked up the last candle, put one finger over the slit in Neal's cock to keep the wax from dripping inside of him, and started to pour it out onto the purple head of Neal's dick. Neal screamed and writhed and _danced_ on his cock, his inner walls rippling around him, and Peter lost himself in the spasms of Neal's hole. He emptied himself inside of Neal, spurt after spurt of cum, and Neal just kept convulsing around him (the wax kept dripping onto him), wringing out his cock until it hurt, until Neal lost his voice and just kept shouting, desperate hoarse noises with each thrust.

Peter blacked out. When he came back, he was collapsed on top of Neal, bending his legs painfully far back, still entirely inside of him. "Fuck, Neal. So good, baby. So good. Don't worry," he promised him. "I'll take care of you." He pulled out gently and untied Neal's arms, massaging his joints and shoulder, rubbing his wrists. Ignoring Neal's cock until he asked for it.

"Gotta - can I come, now, please, it _hurts_..."

He kissed Neal, his chapped lips, and untied the rope from around his dick. He thrust his tongue in each time Neal yelled, fucked his mouth like he owned it, slowly unwinding the rope from around his balls. When he finished, he sat back and admired his work.

"Go on. What are you waiting for? Jerk yourself off if you want to come. I'm not going to do all the work here, Caffrey."

"Oh, god - " Somehow Neal got himself up onto hands and knees before reaching a shaky hand to his cock. His hand fluttered around the shaft like an indecisive hummingbird going in for a landing. He didn't seem to want to touch himself. He'd been hard for nearly two hours, his dick had been tormented with ice, then heat - even now it was covered with a shell of wax. He whimpered when he tried to wrap his hand around himself. He couldn't bring himself to get a good grip on it - every light touch was like sandpaper on the sensitive skin. But every touch made him drip precum until threads of it stretched down to the bed.

"Looks like you're having some problems there, Neal." Neal just groaned. "You need something?"

"Yes - yes, please - "

"Ask for it."

"Help me," he sobbed, trying and failing once more to get himself off, to find the release he so desperately needed.

"Okay, baby, okay. I've got you." Peter carefully eased him onto his back and knelt again between Neal's legs. He swallowed Neal's cock into his mouth. He tasted like precum, wax, sweat - he tasted like Neal, and he went down until the head of his cock butted up against the back of his mouth. The skin under his tongue was scorching hot. He was as gentle as he could be, but Neal's hands in his hair tugged him away nearly as often as they pulled him further down.

Neal couldn't come. No matter how hard or gently Peter sucked, Neal just whimpered, dripped precum, and stayed hard. Peter picked the ice dildo back up - it was about half of its original size, and it slid so easily inside Neal, like he wanted it back. Neal's hands fell to his sides, his thighs alternately squeezing around Peter's head and splaying tiredly outwards - Peter ground the dildo against Neal's prostate, scraped against the wax off Neal's cock with his teeth, and swallowed when Neal came.

He left the dildo in when he got on his hands and knees above Neal and kissed him, spilling the last drops of semen into Neal's mouth. "Can't fall asleep yet, baby. I still gotta get this wax off you." He bent down, bit Neal's nipple (scraping the wax off with his teeth), and smiled when Neal keened. He'd bet his career that Moz, and the Russian models, and goddamn _Kate_ were the furthest things from Neal's mind.


End file.
